Joined and Entwined
by Mondhellnacht
Summary: Set during the Battle of Hogwarts at the end of Deathly Hallows. My writing mixed with J.K. Rowling's. PLEASE REVIEW
1. Entwined Destinies

**Chapter One:** _Entwined Destinies_

His heart was ticking away the seconds that remained to him. He had never been so aware of the beating of his heart until now. The strength of its beating would surely shatter his ribs. He scarcely drew breath. He felt as though the grounds were holding their breath, too. There was a deathly stillness that seemed to envelop the castle. He couldn't hear a thing as he made his way resolutely through the shattered castle that, even now, was still very much his home. The silence was absolute. He couldn't even hear the pounding of his heart in his ears- he could only feel it. He knew it had to be this way. It was the only way. He had to protect the castle and all those who were in it.

As Harry walked on he soon came across Neville who was bent over a body, taking care of it in this brief reprieve Voldemort had given them. Looking upon Neville now, taking in his battered state, he felt Neville had never looked more beautiful. He was strong, so noble and true. The strength of his confidence and faith shone through him, and that faint but resilient light reached Harry, penetrated him. His heart beat now with love, recalling to him the memory of their first embrace—their first kiss—standing before the mirror in the Room of Requirement during Umbridge's reign of terror. The memory was immediately followed by another- the first and last sunrise they shared together the day they left Hogwarts last year. He remembered how his heart had beat- so full of love, warmth, and wonder, bringing light to such dark times.

He wondered if Neville knew just how joined they were- how their destinies had been entwined since birth. Surely he's realized that it could have easily been _him_, that _Neville_ could have been the Boy Who Lived- the one who has to end it all now. Could he know that he had come so close to wearing the lightning scar himself? Though he wondered all this and more, he knew that this was not the time to ask. There would never be a time to ask.

"Neville."

"Blimey, Harry, you nearly gave me heart failure!"

Harry pulled off the Cloak, meeting those blue eyes—the blue eyes which had comforted him many a time—drawing him into their kind and caring depths.

"Where are you going, alone?" Neville asked. There was a note of suspicion in his voice.

"It's all part of the plan," said Harry. "There's something I've got to do. Listen—Neville-"

"Harry!" Neville looked suddenly scared, his devoted blue eyes searching Harry's strangely calm green eyes. "Harry, you're not thinking of handing yourself over?"

"No," Harry lied easily. "'Course not… this is something else. But I might be out of sight for a while. You know Voldemort's snake, Neville? He's got a huge snake… Calls it Nagini…"

Neville's eyes flickered between worry and confused curiosity. "I've heard, yeah… What about it?"

"It's got to be killed. Ron and Hermione know that, but just in case they-"

Harry nearly faltered for a moment, but then he thought of Dumbledore- calm, secretive, mysterious Dumbledore. He needed to be cool like Dumbledore. He had to be certain that there were people to carry on. Dumbledore had died knowing that three people still knew about the Horcruxes; now Neville- brave, loyal, wonderful Neville would take Harry's place. There would still be three in the secret.

"Just in case they're—busy—and you get the chance-"

"Kill the snake?"

"Kill the snake," Harry repeated. Neville would do it. He would be the one. He knew that now. Knew it as surely as he felt his heart still beating.

"All right, Harry. You're okay, are you?"

Those eyes were searching his again. He could hear the heartfelt concern in Neville's voice. He knew he had to leave before the eyes he loved most would discover his secret.

"I'm fine. Thanks, Neville."

Neville caught his wrist as made to leave.

"We're all going to keep fighting, Harry. You know that?"

The quiet passion in Neville's voice cut into him. Pride blossomed inside him, alongside the cutting pain that made breathing difficult. Neville _had_ to live. The better part of him had to survive- and Neville truly was the better part and certainly the better man. Harry had seen it in him where no one else had. He'd helped to draw it out throughout the D.A. training. He'd seen Neville come into his own down in the depths of the Department of Mysteries. Now he was here- he was the man he had been destined to become. It was so beautiful and bittersweet it left him breathless.

"Yeah, I-"

His heart was breaking, and Neville knew it. Neville felt it. He drew Harry to him. Silence fell once again. Neville's lips were on his, and Harry's lips parted- welcoming Neville's lips and tongue. There was the taste of something salty and metallic upon those lips- tears of love and the blood of courage. He took Neville's hand, sliding it underneath his clothes to rest warmly over his heart. He needed Neville to know that the last beat of his heart was for him. All the beats before it were for all those in the castle and all those who'd fallen, sacrificing themselves for him. But that last beat was for Neville. Always save the best for last…

Sound returned to him. It was time for him to go. Harry forced himself to draw back. Time was no longer standing still. It was moving around them, and his heart resumed beating out the last seconds that remained.

"Always, always," Harry murmured against Neville's lips, drawing their hands out from under his clothes.

"Always, always," returned Neville, voice thick with the emotion he held back. He squeezed Harry's hand, slowly releasing it.

As they gazed at one another, for what Harry knew to be the last time, he felt something had changed. He was still grieving the loss of his life and all its possibilities, and though he still felt afraid of what was coming, he now felt a quiet stillness. He was ready to leave and do what needed to be done. He had said goodbye. Harry reached up to gently caress Neville's cheek one last time, savoring the feel of his scarred and singed skin.

He held onto that sensation as he drew his hand back and threw on the cloak. He held the memory of that kiss—of their goodbye—as he made his way to his death.


	2. Joined Heart and Soul

**Chapter Two:** _Joined Heart and Soul_

Voldemort's voice broke through the great silence. Everyone froze, their pounding hearts and gasping breaths fading from mind as wariness and foreboding returned.

"Harry Potter is dead. He was killed as he ran away, trying to save himself while you lay down your lives for him. We bring you his body as proof that your hero is gone."

That sickening voice and those awful words crashed loud and hard against Neville's ears. He didn't have time to worry if that magnified voice had deafened him. His heart burned with fury. He knew it was one great disgusting lie. Harry would never have abandoned them- would never have abandoned _him_.

Voldemort's voice crashed upon them once again before Neville could shout that it was all a despicable lie. "The battle is won. You have lost half your fighters. My Death Eaters outnumber you, and the Boy Who Lived is finished. There must be no more war. Anyone who continues to resist, man, woman, or child, will be slaughtered, as will every member of their family. Come out of the castle now, kneel before me, and you shall be spared. Your parents and children, your brothers and sisters will live and be forgiven, and you will join me in the new world we shall build together."

_Never!_ Though Neville felt the natural human despair creeping in, he held to his faith. If Harry had died, _he_ would have felt it. He still felt Harry's heartbeat steady against his hand, and he knew that if Harry had died—if his heart had ceased to beat—Neville's hand would have gone cold with grief and his own heart would have broken from loss. No, Harry was alive and nothing Voldemort said or could say would change that fact.

As everyone moved toward the opened doors that led to the grounds, he caught sight of Ron and Hermione. Ron's face was red with righteous anger and though Hermione's face was wet with tears, he knew she didn't believe it anymore than Ron did. Ginny's face matched her brother's and Luna, whose manner had always serene, now appeared distant and a little cold. When their eyes met, her light blue eyes revealed a stormy sea. She didn't believe it either.

From where they stood, Neville could see Voldemort come to stop, Death Eaters spreading out on either side of him to form a line facing the castle. He could see Hagrid… and the young man whom he held in his arms- the same young man he'd kissed not so long ago.

"NO!"

A great scream echoed across the grounds. McGonagall's scream. That scream was all the more terrible because he had never—none of them had ever—expected or dreamed Professor McGonagall could make such a sound. A moment later he heard a cruel laugh, clearly enjoying McGonagall's despair. His blood boiled when he heard that laugh. He never felt such a desire to kill someone in all his life. He was going to kill Bellatrix Lestrange before the day was out.

"No!"

_"No!"_

Ron's and Hermione screams preceded his own, "Harry! HARRY!"

Their cries brought down the silence. Suddenly everyone was screaming and hurling abuses at Voldemort and his Death Eaters. Neville screamed like his life depended on it. _It isn't true! IT ISN'T TRUE! HE'S NOT DEAD- IT ISN'T OVER YET!_

_"SILENCE!"_ cried Voldemort. There was a great bang and a flash of bright light. Silence was forced upon them all. "It is over! Set him down, Hagrid, at my feet, where he belongs!"

Neville stared as Hagrid laid Harry gently down on the grass. _He doesn't belong at your feet! He belongs here with us! In my arms!_

"You see? Harry Potter is dead! Do you understand now, deluded ones? He was nothing, ever, but a boy who relied on others to sacrifice themselves for him!"

Neville and Ron cried out in unison, "HE BEAT YOU!" The cry broke the charm and, once again, all the survivors and defenders of Hogwarts were screaming and shouting.

A second and more powerful bang echoed throughout the grounds. Their voices were silenced once more. In that silence Harry's words came back to him. It was as if he were inside Neville- he could feel Harry's heart beating in time with his and he could hear his voice in his mind, clear as day: _"It's all part of the plan. There's something I've got to do."_

"He was killed trying to sneak out of the castle grounds," said Voldemort, and Neville could hear the sickening relish in his voice, "killed while trying to save himself-"

_"It's all part of the plan…"_

Harry isn't dead. It isn't over yet, and Neville knew what to do. He broke from the group and charged forward, armed with his wand and the courage of conviction. Everything and everyone disappeared. There was only him, Voldemort, and his snake Nagini. He had no idea how he was going to kill Nagini without Voldemort getting him first- but, by Merlin, he was going try!

He was so close to Voldemort now. He didn't hear what Voldemort cried as he pointed his wand. He didn't hear the bang, but he definitely _felt_ the blast. Neville hit the ground hard just feet away from Harry. He was wandless and now completely unprotected.

"And who is this?" asked Voldemort, his hiss exactly that of a snake. "Who has volunteered to demonstrate what happens to those who continue to fight when the battle is lost?"

Neville heard that cursed laugh again as he struggled to his feet. He felt heat, everything inside him was burning with the need to end this.

"It is Neville Longbottom, my Lord! The boy who has been giving the Carrows so much trouble! The son of the Aurors, remember?" Bellatrix laughed, fueling Neville's fire, steeling his nerve.

"Ah, yes, I remember," said Voldemort, looking down at him as he rose to face them both. "But you are pureblood, aren't you, my brave boy?"

Neville's hands curled into fists at his side. "So what if I am?" The words leapt free from his mouth, loud, defiant, and resonant.

"You show spirit and bravery, and you come of noble stock. You will make a very valuable Death Eater. We need your kind, Neville Longbottom."

Laughter was most certainly not one of the responses they expected. He couldn't help it. Neville laughed derisively in their faces. It felt good.

"Think I'd join your lot? I'll join you when hell freezes over!" His eyes encompassed both Voldemort and Bellatrix. _"DUMBLEDORE'S ARMY!"_

The words were a battle cry. Everyone at the castle cheered him on, and Voldemort was unable to silence them.

"Very well," said Voldemort, and through the screaming and cheering Neville could hear more danger in the silkiness of his voice than in the most powerful curse. "If that is your choice, Longbottom, we revert to the original plan. On your head," he said quietly, "be it." Voldemort waved his wand. Mere seconds later something misshapen flew straight into his monstrous hands. When he shook it out, Neville recognized it instantly: the Sorting Hat.

"There will be no more Sorting at Hogwarts School. There will be no more Houses. The emblem, shield, and colours of my noble ancestor, Salazar Slytherin, will suffice for everyone. Won't they Neville Longbottom?"

Voldemort's wand was pointed at his face before he could even open his mouth to speak. Instantly his whole body went rigid and still and he knew he'd been put under a Body-Bind. The hat was them jammed over his head, and though muffled, he could still hear that awful snake-like voice.

"Neville here is going to demonstrate what happens to anyone foolish enough to oppose me."

_This is it. I've failed miserably._ Suddenly he was drowning in heat, but this time it wasn't from within. The Sorting Hat was aflame. For a few moments real flames burned his hair and face. Then, unbidden, Harry's voice sounded in his mind once again. _"Help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it."_ It seemed as if it were only yesterday when Harry shared with him that precious secret given to him by Dumbledore. He trusted Harry and they both trusted Dumbledore.

_Help! Please help me!_ He begged the Hat, putting all his faith into the plea.

Everything happened at once. He broke free of the Bind, swiftly removing the hat from his head. The Hat grew heavy as it dropped to the ground. A flash of silver and rubies caught his eye. It was the sword of Gryffindor. The Hat had answered his request.

All round him there was noise and chaos. Neville could hear the wave of people who'd vaulted onto the grounds from the outside. He heard Grawp's cries for Hagrid and he certainly felt the earth quake beneath him when Voldemort's giants ran for Grawp. But none of that mattered. He hadn't failed and this was the moment to do what Harry had asked him to do.

_"This is for you, Harry!"_

In one fluid motion he grabbed the sword and swung fast and hard, slicing off the head of the great snake Nagini. The head spun high into the air, its body thudded to the ground at Voldemort's feet, and Voldemort's mouth was open in a terrible scream of fury that Neville couldn't hear over the din. Voldemort's raised his wand toward him and Neville swing the sword again.

Neither got a hit. Someone had set a Shield Charm to protect him, and at that same moment Hagrid was crying out, "HARRY! HARRY—WHERE'S HARRY?" Neville dropped his gaze to where Harry had lain to see he'd vanished from sight. His heart filled with joy. _"It's all part of the plan…"_

Joyous though he was, there was still a battle to win. He's eyes moved swiftly back to see Voldemort had disappeared and Bellatrix's arm was coming down towards him. "CRUCIO!" Catching sight of his wand he dove straight for it, narrowly escaping the curse. Wand in hand, he sprung to his feet. Bellatrix was gone. He scanned the mess of fighters and Death Eaters on the grounds and soon caught sight of her barreling into the castle. Neville took off after her, dodging Grawp's pummeling punches and the curses and hexes that flew around him. One caught him on the neck and another low on his leg. He felt the blood spilling, but surged straight through the open doors.

Inside the castle chaos reigned. Bellatrix wasn't in sight, but Ron was as he battled Fenrir Greyback alone. "STUPEFY!" He roared in unison with Ron. Both spells caught Fenrir at the same time, blasting him clean off his feet. As Ron came toward him he kicked Fenrir _hard_ in the face.

"Thanks, mate."

"Don't mention it."

After a nod they were back into the fray. As Neville continued to move further inside, tossing back as many spells as he dodged, he caught sight of Voldemort dueling McGonagall, Slughorn, and Kingsley all at once just before he saw Bellatrix fighting Hermione, Ginny, and Luna. Then there was Molly screaming, "NOT MY DAUGHTER, YOU BITCH!" She tossed aside her cloak and drew Bellatrix away from the girls.

Though he couldn't see Harry anywhere, he knew Harry was there under his cloak. Voldemort was Harry's. As for Bellatrix, she was his. "NO! SHE'S MINE!" Neville cried, running straight for them. "THIS IS FOR MY PARENTS!" Their eyes were on him. He heard Hermione shriek and Mrs. Weasley scream as he and Bellatrix opened fire.

They each dodged and whirled as they missed and continued to send out curse after curse. Their curses cracked the floors and the walls and the air was hot around them, the air rippling visibly as it would ordinarily on a scorching summer day. Neville had to shout back many attempts from Molly and other students who wanted to help him fight. On they dodged, whirling left and right, bright jets of light zinging this way and that. She caught one in the shoulder, just barely, and he caught hers just on the upper corner of his left eye. Warm sticky blood slid down his cheek. Oh, he knew he was no match against Bellatrix, but what he lacked in skill and prowess he more than made up for in courage and determination. He was going to win this.

"No use fighting, Little Longbottom," Bellatrix seemed to dance on her feet as she dodged his curse, blithely ignoring the fact that he'd burned her hair, "your parents won't be proud of you. They don't you remember you at all!"

He stopped cold, wand poised as he gazed at her, eyes burning with fury. She laughed as she, too, stopped with her wand also poised. She looked exactly the same as when he'd last stood against her in the Hall of Prophecies. He felt as if her horrible arms had hold of him again. He remembered the wand she'd pressed against his throat and her cruel bony fingers pulling tightly at his hair.

"It ends here," said Neville, his voice deadly calm.

"With your death- _AVADA KEDAVRA_!"

He'd been ready. He knew what she was about to do before she'd even said the word 'death'. As she'd uttered the curse he'd already let himself fall backward.

_"AVADA KEDAVRA!"_ Neville roared just before his back met the ground, his wand pointed directly at her heart.

There was an audible gasp by those who'd been watching. Bellatrix's smug smile froze, eyes wide. He knew his aim had been true. She toppled, the crowd roared, and Voldemort screamed. McGonagall, Slughorn, and Kingsley were blasted backward, flailing as they flew through the air. Voldemort raised his wand to him.

Neville flew to his feet and as he raised his wand he heard a precious voice roar out _"PROTEGO!"_ sending a Shield Charm which expanded in the center of the room. He and Voldemort looked toward where Harry's voice had come from just in time to see him pull off the Invisibility Cloak. For a brief moment screams, cheers, and yells of shock sounded through the Great Hall. Then everyone fell silent as Harry and the Dark Lord circled and stared at each other.

"I don't want anyone else to try to help," Harry said loudly, his voice magnified in the total silence. "It's got to be like this. It's got to be me."

Neville moved back to stand with Luna and Hermione where he listened raptly to every word exchanged, as did everyone else in the Great Hall. So much was now made clear. He now remembered the last sunset and sunrise they'd shared in the Room of Requirement before they'd parted last summer. The remaining anger over not being able to go with Harry, Ron, and Hermione on their quest started to melt away. It wasn't until now that he'd realized how much of that he'd been carrying with him—worrying and praying every day and every night that they were all right—that Harry was all right. The only consolation had been the fact that he was now protecting the school as Harry had- protecting those whom they both cared very much for.

Daunting as it had been to now be the one who Led and the one who Protected, he put his whole being into the task. He'd resurrected the D.A. because he knew it was what Harry would've wanted and any way to help Harry by keeping everyone ready and their spirits alive was a welcome reward. With Luna's and Ginny's help, they were able to fill the place Ron, Hermione, and Harry had left. Looking at it now, he realized it had all been further training for what he'd done here and now.

"So it all comes down to this, doesn't it? Does the wand in your hand know its last master was Disarmed? Because if it does…I am the master of the Elder Wand."

Time stood still for a moment. Overhead the sun burst through the red-gold glow, the light hitting Harry and Tom in the face. Time crashed back in. Their hands were in motion. His heart was pounding- pounding for both Harry and himself.

_"Avada Kedavra!"_

_"Expelliarmus!"_

Lights shot from their wands and met at the center of the circle Harry and Tom had been treading around each other. The bang sounded like a cannon blast and golden flames erupted from where the spells collided. No one could hear anything after the deafening blast, but they could all see the Elder Wand flying high, dark against the sunrise, spinning across the enchanted ceiling- spinning not unlike Nagini's head. Harry, the true master, caught the wand while Tom Riddle fell back, arms splayed, hitting the floor, his body feeble and shrunken.

There was ultimate silence. There was shock. Then chaos reigned once again. Everyone made for Harry, but it was he, Ron, and Hermione who reached him first, embracing him. Then Ginny and Luna were there, and then all the Weasleys, Hagrid, Kingsley, McGonagall, Flitwick, and Sprout. It was so brief… too brief. He yearned to hold Harry in his arms a bit longer, but he knew he'd have to wait. Everyone wanted to hold or touch him—the _Boy Who Lived_, the _One Who Vanquished The Dark Lord_—who just happened to be the young man he loved deeply.


	3. Entwined Bodies

**Chapter Three:** _Entwined Bodies_

Two hours later Harry found himself sitting on a bench beside Luna, exhausted and utterly drained. It was surreal. He'd spent nearly half his life fighting against Voldemort, and now it was over. He'd survived the death he'd thought would be so horribly final. There was to be no void. His life had possibilities once again. Then there was Neville….steadfast, fearless, and resolute. Neville was the true Gryffindor. He'd outstripped them all. Neville never had Dumbledore's guidance, nor had he realized that he and the others would be protected upon Harry's sacrifice (but then again, Harry hadn't realized it either). He'd faced Voldemort even when he knew there was no chance of survival, and he succeeded beautifully. He'd done what it was in his destiny to do. He couldn't be prouder of Neville if he tried. _I need to see him._

Luna, perceptive as ever, met his gaze when he looked at her. "I'd want some peace and quiet, if it were me."

"I'd love some."

"I'll distract them all," she smiled. "Use your Cloak."

"Thanks," he said, hugging her. Odd though she was, he loved her dearly.

She smiled again and waited for his nod. "Oooh, look, a Blibbering Humdinger!" Luna cried, pointing out of the window. When everyone turned to look, Harry slid on the Cloak and left her side, though not before he gave her arm a light pat.

Harry now moved freely through the Great Hall. He spotted Ron and Hermione two tables away sitting with Ginny, who was sitting with her head on her mother's shoulder, the rest of the remaining Weasley family gathered around them. The stark absence of Fred cut him once again. He also caught sight of the Malfoys, huddled together, clearly unsure whether or not they were supposed to be there. Lucius and Narcissa looked shaken and weary, and Draco, too, shared in their weariness, but there was also a distinct look of relief on his face. Then, finally, he saw Neville, the sword of Gryffindor lying beside his plate as he ate, surrounded by a group of fervent admirers. From the look on Neville's face, he knew that he wasn't the only one wanting a little peace and quiet. As he passed, Harry was able to stroke his hand along Neville's back without anyone detecting him. He knew it would be enough. Neville would understand.

Once outside, Harry leaned against the wall just a few feet from the doors to the Great Hall. A minute later, Neville came into view, searching for him, the sword in his left hand. Harry held out his hand, beckoning him over. When Neville took his hand, he drew him under the Cloak. There were no words, just the meeting of their lips as they clung tightly to one another, their hearts beating as one.

After what seemed like an eternity, they both drew back- just enough to look at each other. He looked long at Neville, who although looking as exhausted as Harry felt, looked much better thanks to Madam Pomfrey's expertise. The only thing that remained to tell the story of what had happened was the scar across the top corner of the left eye, which reached to his eyebrow. The eyelid drooped a little. He reached up to gently trace the scar. He drew Neville closer and kissed the eyelid.

"It looks good."

"It'll never beat the lightning scar," said Neville, kissing the scar in question. "It's classic."

The corner of Harry's lips drew up just slightly, and he was certain that Neville knew he'd nearly smiled.

_We did it, we bashed them, wee Potter's the one,  
And Voldy's gone moldy, so now let's have fun!_

Peeves' victory song carried down to them as he zoomed through the corridors. The song had intruded upon the moment. It wasn't at all the time to party. Not yet, at least. That was for another day.

Harry removed the Cloak and clasped Neville's hand in his. Together they turned and began to climb the marble staircase. Great chunks were missing and the balustrade was gone. Rubble and bloodstains occurred every few steps as they continued to climb upwards. Through the quiet journey Harry began to recount for Neville everything that had happened since he, Ron, and Hermione began their quest. He told Neville _everything_. Before Neville could even express his shock and amazement, they arrived at their unspoken destination. The gargoyle guarding the entrance to Dumbledore's office lay toppled on its side. It granted them access, albeit drunkenly.

They made their way up. Harry pushed open the door. He had one, brief glimpse of the stone Pensieve on the desk where he'd left it, and then an earsplitting noise rent the air. He cried out, falling back into defense mode, thinking of curses and returning Death Eaters and the rebirth of Voldemort—

Then he realised to his relief that it was merely applause. All around the walls, the headmasters and headmistresses of Hogwarts were giving him a standing ovation- waving their hats and in some cases their wigs. They reached through their frames to grip each other's hands and they danced up and down on the chairs in which they'd been painted.

It was all wonderful, and even a little amusing, but Harry had eyes only for the man who stood in the largest portrait directly behind the headmaster's chair. Tears were sliding down from behind the half-moon spectacles into the long silver beard. The pride and gratitude emanating from Dumbledore filled Harry with the same balm as a phoenix song. He respectfully bade the portraits to fall silent. His words were directed at Dumbledore, however. Exhausted and bleary-eyed as he was, Harry knew he had to choose his words with great care as he sought one last piece of advice.

"The thing that was hidden in the Snitch," he began, "I dropped it in the forest. I don't know exactly where, but I'm not going to go looking for it again. Do you agree?"

"My dear boy, I do," Dumbledore beamed, eyes still sparkling with tears. "A wise and courageous decision, but no less than I would have expected of you. Does anyone else know where it fell?"

"No one," Harry returned, "I'm going to keep Ignotus's present, though."

Dumbledore smiled again. "But of course, Harry, it is yours forever, until you pass it on!"

"And then there's this," he held up the Elder Wand, and Neville wisely looked at it with appropriate fear that, even in his befuddled and sleep-deprived state, Harry was glad to see. "I don't want it."

Here he rummaged in the pouch that still hung around his neck, and pulled out the two halves of holly still just connected by the finest thread of phoenix feather. Though Hermione had said that they could not be repaired, that the damage was too severe, he knew he had to try at least. He laid the broken wand upon the headmaster's desk, touched it with the tip of the Elder Wand, and said, _"Reparo."_

The wand resealed and red sparks flew out of its end. He'd succeeded. He picked up his holly and phoenix feather wand and felt a sudden glorious warmth in his fingers, as though wand and hand were rejoicing at their reunion.

"I'm putting the Elder Wand back where it came from. It can stay there. If I die a natural death like Ignotus, its power will be broken, won't it? The previous master will never have been defeated. That'll be the end of it."

Dumbledore, who had been watching Harry with enormous affection and admiration, nodded. They smiled at each other. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Neville holding up the sword of Gryffindor flat in both hands. Both he and Dumbledore looked at him.

"This was willed to you before it came to me," Neville said, meeting Harry's eyes. "I'm returning it to the school." Though he spoke quietly, his words resonated. "It's what you'd want, right?"

Apparently there is to be no end to the pride Neville inspired in him. Harry reached out to stroke his arm, letting it rest there. It was all the answer Neville needed.

"Young man," Dumbledore's voice drew their eyes from each other and back to the portrait, "you have exceeded all expectations. You have become the man you are meant to be- that your parents wanted you to be. They would be _very_ proud of you."

Harry could see the great sincerity and pride in his face, but he could also hear the faint regret in Dumbledore's voice. He now knew that Dumbledore regretted underestimating Neville- regretted the fact that he had never encouraged him. It seemed Dumbledore was now coming to understand something he should have known all along- that though Neville hadn't been chosen to be the Boy Who Lived, he was very much a part of the story. He'd had a part to play and Dumbledore hadn't seen it.

"Oh, they're proud," Neville smiled. "They just don't know it."

Neville laid the sword to rest in its case. They said goodbye to Dumbledore and the other portraits and left the office. They made their way to the Room of Requirement, their hands entwined once again.

The Room was exactly as they remembered it. The enchanted windows revealed a beautiful day outside, the morning light streaming in to bathe the large mahogany four poster bed and the red and gold rugs around it in a golden glow. Harry reached for one set of the fresh clean pyjamas that were laid out on the comfortable deep red settee while Neville used the D.A. galleon coin to tell the others not to worry about their absence.

Setting his glasses down on the nightstand, Harry climbed into bed, burrowing beneath the blankets. The bed dipped and blankets rustled a moment. Then he felt warm arms enveloping him. He drew closer to Neville, wrapping his own arms around him. They kissed.

It didn't take long before they were both asleep.


	4. Joined Families

**Epilogue:** _Joined Families_

The day had been full of activity. During the late morning they'd gone to St. Mungo's to visit Neville's parents with Ted Remus Lupin—originally Harry's godson but now very much their own son—and Augusta "Gran" Longbottom. Neville had sat beside his mother adding the newest Drooble's Best Blowing Gum wrapper she'd given him to the chain of other saved wrappers while they'd all engaged Frank and Alice in conversation.

During the last year Neville had taken all the wrappers he'd saved through the years and began to fold and attach them together to form his, Harry's, and Teddy's names. With the names and date completed he'd enchanted the wrapper chains to embed themselves into the maroon and gold fringed afghan he'd also made during the year. _Neville and Harry Potter-Longbottom_ read across the center of the afghan with _Ted Remus Lupin_ below, followed by the current date _25 December 1998_ underneath. When he'd laid the afghan across the bed, Neville couldn't help wishing his parents could know they gained a son, and for all intents and purposes, a grandson. He couldn't help hoping that maybe one day his mother might eventually give Harry a wrapper, too.

After leaving St. Mungo's, he and Harry had gone back to their cottage on the outskirts of Godric's Hollow- not far from where Harry's parents had once lived. They'd been joined by Luna for a light lunch. Luna had moved into a poky little house down the lane after her father had taken up traveling and searching for the creatures that so often graced the pages of _The Quibbler_ which she'd taken over editing in the comfort of her home. She'd brought along the Christmas edition, setting it down on the table. Teddy, who very much liked his Auntie Luna, made giggling sounds when she took him in her arms, his currently auburn hair changing to an ashy silver.

During their lunch—between telling Teddy stories about Nargles and Crumple-Horned Snorkacks—Luna gave Neville updates on her research into natural history, which he was always interested to hear. She'd also asked after Gran and his parents, to which he responded that they were all fine. Though he'd found himself blushing when Harry told Luna about the afghan gift. She'd smiled and said that that was such a sweet thing to do.

"They're sure to love it," she'd said.

Afterward, he showed Luna his greenhouse, something she always liked to see when she visited, while Harry remained inside with Teddy whose hair was now a mixture of jet-black and white. Luna was especially impressed with the Lunar Lotuses which glowed brightly whenever the moon is out.

Luna beamed, "Oh they're lovely. Where did you get them? I think I'd really like to have some, too."

When eventually they went back inside, the three of them sat down by the fire drinking cider and amusing Teddy until it was time for the Christmas dinner at the Burrow. Luna, who'd already packed her Christmas gifts in her silvery crescent moon handbag, sang carols to Teddy while he and Harry packed the mountain of gifts into Neville's valise which had once belonged to his father.

"Think that's everything."

"No, I think we forgot the kitchen sink," Harry laughed.

Neville rolled his eyes. "You can be the one to carry it, then."

Once they'd rejoined Luna and Teddy they Apparated together to the Burrow. They were the first to arrive and found themselves embraced by all the Weasleys, Hermione and her parents, Dean, and Angelina seemingly all at once. It lasted for what seemed like twenty minutes by which time Gran appeared, followed by Kingsley and the troupe from Hogwarts: Hagrid, McGonagall, Flitwick, Pomfrey, Sprout, Slughorn, and Trelawney. After another flurry of greetings and embraces, Mrs. Weasley led them into the great tent that had been hoisted outside. Inside it had been warm, with tables aplenty, a piano further down with framed photos of the fallen placed atop it, and at the end of the tent was the larger than life Christmas tree surrounded by a mountain of presents and flanked by settees and chinz seats for everyone. Ron led them over to sit by the tree while they'd waited for the others to arrive. Harry added their load of gifts to the pile.

"We're thinking of a Christmas wedding."

"It'll be in the morning, that way we can all spend Christmas day together afterwards," explained Hermione, holding Teddy in her arms as she'd sat down beside Ron. Teddy, whose hair was now golden, giggled and clapped.

"And every year after we can celebrate our anniversary and Christmas together," Ron grinned. "Can't beat that."

George, who stood behind their settee, rolled his eyes. Angelina, his girlfriend, shot him a look. Clearly she thought it was romantic and sweet.

Ginny, leaning back against Dean who had his arm around her, had also seen George's expression. "That's a great idea."

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley smiled indulgently, sharing a warm glance between themselves, while Fleur and Penelope both had on similar girlish expressions that seemed to declare they were of the same mind as Angelina. Bill, Charlie, and Percy were too busy talking current events to notice, and although they stood near, McGonagall and the other Hogwarts staff were immersed in their conversation with Kingsley and Gran.

Luna had disappeared, but returned shortly with Ollivander on her arm. Though still on the weak side due to his captivity the previous year, he was looking better, and was clearly happy to be joining them. Once he, too, had been greeted by everyone, Luna led him to one of the lounge seats not far from where he and Harry sat. She pulled one of the chinz seats closer to him and sat down.

He'd known that Luna and Ollivander had struck up an unlikely friendship born from the time they'd spent together at Malfoy Manor and Seashell Cottage. They both wrote to each other often, and she always told Neville and Harry how he fared and was faithful in delivering the comments that were directed to Harry. He also knew that there were some letters exchanged between Harry and Ollivander as well.

He'd joined them after a word to Harry and the others. They talked briefly before they were joined by Harry, Bill, Fleur, and McGonagall. With a glance he could see Madam Pomfrey now held Teddy, with Penelope, Angelina, and Sprout crooning beside her. He had a feeling they were telling Teddy about his father whom Madam Pomfrey had always had a fondness for.

Eventually the last of the guests arrived. Lee Jordan entered followed by Xenophilius—looking as mad as ever dressed in too bright robes of green and red, wearing a hat covered with pine needles, and a large poinsettia in his lapel—carrying a large red and silver bag over his shoulder as if he were Father Christmas himself. He said the bag was loaded with gifts from Norway.

Dinner was a fine affair. The air carried the scent of pine, holly, and wassail. Candles were lit and small, relatively quiet red, green, and silver fireworks exploded and sparkled high above the tables, one almost burning Hagrid's beard. Mrs. Weasley frowned disapprovingly at George while Hagrid laughed. Teddy, too, was entertained, following the lights with avid attention as he giggled, hair now alternating between silver, green, and red.

"When he's old enough, I'll send some to him discount," George winked, grinning at Harry and Neville.

Neville couldn't help the sudden image of an eight or nine year old Teddy setting off fireworks about the cottage. Yes, that's all they need. With one look at Harry, he could tell that the idea really amused him.

Next came the carols. The tables Vanished, the settees, lounges, and chinz seats were spaced further apart to allow everyone gather together. Neville took his place at the piano. Harry stood beside it and Ginny, Teddy's newest keeper, stood beside him. Neville played and sang along with everyone. Harry, Hermione, and Dean looked particularly happy, and he knew it was because they'd finally learned all the wizard carols. He couldn't blame them, as he still had a few Muggle carols to learn himself.

Once they'd sung themselves silly, they gathered 'round the tree. Gifts were passed every which way. Squeals of surprise, laughter, and tearful _'Thank you's,'_ were exchanged all around. For all the gifts he received, nothing could ever top the gift Harry had presented him with when they'd risen at dawn. Harry had placed in his hands a large photo album. Inside were pictures from the album Hagrid had given Harry at the end of his first year as well as Neville's family pictures. On one page in particular a photo of he, Harry, and Teddy was placed directly below two photos, one of Harry's parents and the other of Neville's parents, which had been placed together side by side. He remembered the way the gold lettering on the cover felt against his fingers- _The Potter-Longbottom Family_ had felt warm and comforting against his skin, and he couldn't get over the amusement of Harry enlisting Gran's help in gathering the photos.

This Christmas gathering had been quite a large gathering, though perhaps not as large as Bill and Fleur's, Percy and Penelope's, and his and Harry's weddings had been. This, Neville felt, was what Christmas was all about: family, friends, love, joy, and laughter. This was the first true Christmas he'd ever had, and he knew when Harry met his eyes, that all his past Christmases couldn't compare either.

Eventually the party began to die down with the departure of the Hogwarts troupe, Gran, Lee, and Dean. Luna left with her father and Ollivander, who, although looking happy and content, was clearly tired. After checking the time, Neville and Harry made their goodbyes. They had one more stop before they could return home and put Teddy to bed. It was another round of hugs and tangles of arms and bodies, and after a particularly warm, but bruising, hug from Mrs. Weasley, they were finally able to leave.

Now they stood together before James and Lily Potter's grave, his arm around Harry who held Teddy warmly bundled against his chest. Neville Conjured a wreath of poinsettia and holly, laying it across the grave. They sang their last carol for the night for Harry's parents, and with his arm around Harry, they at last made their way home.


End file.
